


From Zero to Hiero

by snafumoofins



Category: Operation: Endgame (2010), The Legend of Barney Thomson (2015), The Long Midnight of Barney Thomson - Douglas Lindsay
Genre: Anyelle, Basically, F/M, Serial Killer, adopts a woobie puppy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 11:04:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6421387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snafumoofins/pseuds/snafumoofins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hierophant's off on a hit in Scotland, but her hit happens to be the same man that Barney Thomson accidentally murdered. How can she not adopt this woobie, ASPCA-commercial worthy little scotsman?</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Zero to Hiero

Of all the places she’d ever thought she’d be sent on a hit… _Scotland_. Hierophant didn’t think on the place often at all, usually, her mind was on the lord, her cats, killing, or maybe on her latest manicure. 

When Empress had first approached her, she’d told Hiero to expect to go to great places.  
  
Right now, as she stood in the rain, soaked right down to her lacy black bra, she could happily feel that Empress was full of shit. 

Still, Hiero was a good assassin. She’d done her research, watched _Braveheart_ four times. She was prepared as much as she could be prepared.  
  
And yet the _accents_. The fucking _accents_. 

Hiero didn’t understand why Empress wanted her there a week ahead of schedule, but she got it as soon as she hailed her first cabbie.

“Whaur ye gonnae?”

“’Scuse me?” 

“ _Whaur_ ye gonnae?” 

“No hablo espanol.” 

“WHAR YE GONNAE?” 

“Fuckin’ bastard, god’s gonna smite ya for bein’ so rude to a lady!”  
  
With a dignified stamp of her foot and a reflexive twitch of her hand (she wanted to strangle him, or _no maybe wrap his sinnin’ intestines around his neck_ ), Hiero searched for another cabbie. 

An hour later and she was in her hotel, or as nice of a hotel as she could manage in her hit’s area. Another hour later and Hiero was coming out of the shower, humming something or another by the _Spice Girls_ to herself. Another hour and she was sitting on a bench across from Henderson’s Barber’s shop, whistling something or another from _Sweeney Todd_ to herself. 

Hierophant was irked from her welcome into the country, but she was _extra_ irked by the fact that this wasn’t even a fucking kill for the government. Empress had called her over, all “sweet-pea” and “kitten” with the fucking pet names. This was a personal favor for an old friend, and Hierophant was the prime choice for it, apparently.  
  
Or else Empress just wanted her out of her hair for a few weeks. 

It was a middle-aged man ( _no, Hiero, laddie. That’s what they say here_ ), a bit on the chubby side that she was after. He was a daddy’s boy, head of the shop. It was a simple hit, but Empress felt it needed precaution. Hierophant felt it was _bullshit_.  
  
She wasn’t an amateur, but she knew she made Empress sweat. Sinners always did. Maybe she was just aware that Hiero’d been drawing pictures of killing her on _MS paint_ at work, who fuckin’ knew.  
  
Anyway, there she was, sitting and waiting and restlessly tapping her fingers on the bench, waiting for night to come and for these men, one of which she already knew was her hit, to close shop so she could picklock her way in and survey the works. Her target’s companion, as it turned out, was unexpectedly entertaining for the blonde. He was a short man, wiry and fidgety, with his hair plastered back and his hands _always_ moving. He had an element to him, though, like one of those little sad-eyed dogs on the ASPCA commercials that she bawled over. 

And so Hiero found an interest in the bumbling little man. She watched him the rest of that evening, being berated by the other barbers, occasionally challenging his customers only to have them storm out, cursing up and down. Her blood boiled. Even from across the street, she saw the way his shoulders fell when other spoke to him, how his head hung low. 

_A fuckin’ puppy_. 

Had she not been after one of the men, she’d be killing all of them. 

It’d always been in her nature, after all. The underground church society that made her into the killer she was had made her kill the rabbit she’d saved from being made dinner with her bare hands. She cared “too much,” she’d been told. Killing that rabbit only made her care more, though. She’d cared enough to kill the entire cult, men, women and children alike. And then Penny. Sweet little Penny, with her yellow eyes. She’d cared enough about that cat to kill the fucker that ran her over.  
  
Now, she wanted to kill _these_ fuckers. 

But she didn’t. She sat still, leaning up in her seat, as though she was about to stand. 

A few hours later, much to Hiero’s relief, the shop seemed to be nearing its closing time. The blonde now stood away from the bench, leaning against a lamppost as she idly twirled a curl of hair around her finger. 

Her pup seemed to be talking to his coworker, a combination of aggression and dismay to his body language. She supposed it was always like this, for her poor little kitten, always getting beat up by the bigger boys. She wanted to- 

“ _Holy mother Mary on a fuckin’ skillet makin’ pancakes,_ “ Hiero gasped as she watched the two men tumble to the floor. Against her better judgement, she started to walk over, pausing as she saw her little friend stand, hands held away from him in shock. Her target wasn’t moving. 

The fucking pup had killed her hit. For all Hiero knew, she’d have killed the fucker a week from now after careful planning and observation! 

_Fuck_. 

Two minutes later and Barney Thomson’s rampant cries and rambling were cut off by slam of the front door. “ _LET ME IN RIGHT THIS FUCKIN’ SECOND OR I SWEAR ON THE HOLY FATHER-”_ another bang announced the out-of-place blonde stranger, in her bright red cardigan and netted tights. 

He froze, glancing from Wullie’s corpse up to the door, his entire body racking with shakes. 

Barney went for the door. 

Gone was the aggressive woman as Hierophant entered, smoothing down her pencil skirt and clearing her throat before turning to lock the door behind her. She gazed down at Wullie, her eyes fixedly, nearly hungrily, scathing over the growing dark patch of red on his chest, before shifting to Barney’s face. 

“Gee, where are my manners?!” she winced at herself before sticking her hand out, so abruptly that the barber jumped with a cry. “Oh, no, I ain’t gonna _hurt_ you, honey, I’m just introducin’ myself, seein’ that we’re gonna be really seein’ a _lot_ of each other now. Y’see, I’m Hierophant. This here _uh_ …” she glanced at Wullie again, cocking her head for a moment, “ _jerk_ was wanted dead by someone ‘n I was sent here to do it.” 

“A-A-An…assassin?” Barney squeaked, taking a few, clumsy steps away from Hierophant and his dead coworker. 

“You betcha’!” the proclaimed murderer chirped, beaming at him. “Listen, I know all this shit is scary and _fuck_ , there’s a first time for everything, but I’m gonna help ya through this. I _like_ you ‘n I wanna make sure ya get out of this mess untouched. Looks like you’ve had enough fear for one life, yeah?”  
Hiero kept her hand extended, her smile not at all dimming. 

It wasn’t enough to soothe the barber Thomson, however. The trembling man stood against the wall, glancing over at her with wide eyes. 

Hiero had lured in enough feral cats to know how to soothe a scared, wild animal. Calmly, the woman withdrew her hand and sat on the floor beside Wullie Henderson’s body, crossing her legs (not minding the way it flashed her legs) and patting the area across from her. 

Barney’s legs moved before his mind could catch up, slowly lowering himself across from her. “A-Ah…Ah…Ah killed Wullie.” he slowly stated, his trembling hands still in the air, as though they were polluted.

Hierophant only tutted, shrugging her shoulders as she reached over to take both of his shivering paws ( _aw fuck, look at the way the fuckin’ thing jumps from my own fuckin’ hands!_ ) in her petite, pale hands. “ _No_ , you didn’t. You _saved_ him. He was already a fuggin’ sinner from the looks of it, you just made his long, miserable life a lot less long!” the woman thrust her head to the side, beaming at him yet again with those red lips. “What’s your name, hm?” 

Barney had just killed Wullie. He’d just murdered another man. His coworker. He’d be arrested, he’d-his mind lost complete track of _everything_ when he felt Hierophant’s finger stroke against his clammy palm- _fucking shite she was holding his hands?!  
_

The barber swallowed the lump in his throat, his jittery pupils focusing on her soft blue eyes, “A-Ahm Barney Tch-Thomson,” he somehow managed to stammer out. 

“Okay then, well…Barney…First things first, we’re gonna get this body outta here and second things second, we’re gonna get you a cup of somethin’ strong ‘n numbing, all right?” Hiero’s lips curled as she leaned over to give his shoulder a supportive rub , soaking in the way the man’s eyes flitted shut. 

_Oh,_ she took back _everything_ she’d thought about Scotland. 

* * *

_“Whit dae?”  
_

_“Cemolina? It’s Empress.”  
_

_“Oooooch, Empress! How have ya been, ya auld bag?!”  
_

_“Good, good. Listen, my girl killed the barber’s son. We’re even now.”  
_

_“Oooooh? Did she naw? Fackin’ shite it’s aboot time. Fack knows mah boy wouldnae have the baws tae do it imself.”  
_

_“Yeah. Like I said, we’re even. So now-what the fuck do you want? Who’s dead? Where? Fuck-”  
_

_“Allo? Empress? Aw shite fuckin’ cunt hung up.”_

**Author's Note:**

> I'm planning on writing more of this, love this pairing so much! 
> 
> Thanks to ANG for the title recommendation and delint for reading it over.


End file.
